


Just like fire and ice

by Alle1313



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Awesome Frigga (Marvel), Brotherhood, F/M, Frigga Knows All (Marvel), M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Odin (Marvel)'s Bad Parenting, Sibling Love, Sneaky Frigga (Marvel), Thanos Dies (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25190917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alle1313/pseuds/Alle1313
Summary: It was normal in Asgard for siblings to be some decades or even centuries apart, it was only natural given their long lives.However, it wasn't as common to have six hundred years of difference between two brothers. And it was even weirder given that those brothers were the princes.Thor, the Crown Prince was a thousand was 1495 years old. A young man in his late twenties or early thirties compared to human lifespan.Loki, the youngest was 895. A teenager who would look like a 15  or 16 year-old to humans.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Jane Foster/Thor, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. Loki

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, whoever you're reading this! Thank you for clicking on my story :)  
> I just wanted to explain some things about this fanfic before you started reading it:
> 
> 1.- This is basically based on a post I discovered a while ago, which said that Loki was actually a teenager by Asgardian standars. So I thought, what if he actually was a teenager in the MCU? 
> 
> 2.- Please, don't get me wrong: I absolutely love the way Tom Hiddleston plays Loki, and I'm not one of those who believes he's too old to play his role. This is just like a ‘what if’.
> 
> 3.- There is another fan theory this story will include, because I honestly believe it could be pretty convincing with this AU. But it's gonna be a surprise. No spoilers until I post the chapter where it's revealed ;)
> 
> 4.- English is not my native language, so if there's some mistakes in the writing, please tell me so I can fix it.
> 
> Okay, so, that's all. I hope you enjoy this! (any constructive criticism will be appreciated)

_CHAPTER_ _ONE_  
 _Loki_

  
With his cheek leaning against his fist and his elbow resting on the window shelf he watched as the vast fields of wheat dissapeared from his sight as the carriage advanced. He heard how aunt Freya and uncle Frey chatted at the other side of the seat, but their voices were just distant murmurs to him.

All Thor cared about right now was the betrayal he felt, and from no other than his own parents! How could they have sent him to Vanaheim while Asgard fought the Frost Giants in Midgard? Why didn't they let him come back until the war was over? He had been training since he could remember, and he was almost six hundred now. He was a warrior, for the Norns's shake! And the crown prince at that.

Volstagg was able to fight on the battlefield, why couldn't he go too? All right, maybe his friend was three hundred years older than him, but he was Asgard's prince! He should be there, supporting his people and not hiding like a coward in another Realm!

Thor hated this (don't get him wrong, he loved his uncles. It was the rest of the situation that he didn't like. Not even a bit), but he knew better than to complain about it to his Vanir relatives. No, they didn't deserve his bad temper and he had already apologized for the storms his fury had caused, but when he arrived to Asgard — well, that would be a whole different story.

He still couldn't believe that they had hidden from him that they were on the verge of war. Had he not overheard the conversation his uncles were having to discuss the battlefield's daily news, he wouldn't have known any of it until his return.  
If Thor already knew he didn't like secrets, this only reaffirmed it. So, not wanting to throw a tantrum in front of his relatives, he just stared out at the wheat fields and focused his anger in a stare to the grain.

Meanwhile Freya and Frey watched him discretely, worried about what Odin and Frigga would say when Thor inevitably reproached them for lying to him.

“I still can't believe that I didn't notice Thor was listening to us. How couldn't we be aware of his presence, sister?” Vanaheim's male coregent ashamedly mumbled, “We had to keep him unaware of the war, we will be punished.”

Freya grabbed the man's hand and squeezed it gently, smiling reassuringly at him. “Do not fret, brother” she said, “Our sister will understand, everyone is allowed to make mistakes.”

Frey snorted humourlessly and shook his head, making his long golden curls bounce with the movement. “Is not her that I am worried about.”

The queen pursed her lips and sighed through gritted teeth. Of course it was because of _him._ “Odin will not dare to punish us” she assured. Then a dark shadow crept over her face. “Or he would risk to have yet another war.”

Frey looked at his twin sister and smiled sadly. This time it was him who squeezed her hand. “You know how the last Vanir-Asgardian war ended, Freya” he said softly, but there was bitterness clear in his tone. “Our people under the thumb of the ‘ _A_ _llfather_ ’, our older sister married to the now benevolent king...”

“I know” the woman whispered. Then her plump lips stretched into a wild smirk. “But now _we_ have the advantage: thanks to the magic mirror, we saw what happened in Jotunheim after the battle.” A mischievous glimmer appeared in her eyes as her grin widened. “He would not like what ocurred in the temple to be known, would he? Not now that the war against the Jotnar is over and his people's deep hate for the ‘Frost Giants’ is fresh.”

Frey narrowed his eyes as his lips slowly mirrored her smirk. “Are you suggesting we extort him, dear sister?”

Freya chuckled. “Maybe. But we will have to be discreet, brother” she replied. “We would not like the Asgardians to break into the palace and kill the little runt, would we?”

Both brother and sister fell silent with a satisfied smile plastered on their lips. They would make Odin pay, be it now or in a thousand years.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

  
From the palace windows golden buildings could be seen shimmering in the sunlight, standing brightly with their own majestic splendour.

Frigga sighed as she stared at the city.

Today her siblings would bring Thor home after being apart for half a century. Well, fifty years away from her son — she had already lost count of how much time had passed since the last time she had seen her brother and sister. Probably since the war between Vanaheim and Asgard almost two millenia ago.

Frigga couldn't help but feel melancholy flooding her while she thought about them. She missed Freya and Frey dearly, their absence was something that pained her and stung like a stab. However, the queen of Asgard had obviously noticed they deliberately missed her wedding day, the feasts given by Odin, the day Hela was born, when Thor came to their lives and the day her firstborn was banished. And for that she was deeply hurt. 

Frigga wasn't a fool and knew that her younger siblings did not aprove of her marriage, and they had reasons not to do so, even she hated him at the beginning. But she had had time to understand that he really wanted to change his methods, she had learnt to love Odin despite the former conflict between the worlds in which they were born, just as he had.

That's why she had hesitated when her husband had suggested to send Thor with Freya and Frey until the war ended, and the same reason why she had been pleasantly surprised to recieve a letter from them some days later, saying how much they loved their nephew and his adventurous self. Frigga had high hopes for this meeting, it could be the restart of their long forgotten bond and–

A wailing soound pulled her back to reality.

The queen shook her head to put the memories aside and turned away from the nursery window, walking towards the wooden crib at the corner of the room.

Small feet kicked the air angrily as soft whimpers were heard. Frigga took the small baby in her arms and smiled down at him. “Hello, little one” she cooed. The baby's eyelids fluttered open and wide, tearful emerald eyes peered up at her. “Hey, what's wrong darling?”

The child started to sob quietly, still looking at her and she started to worry. The queen began to rock him and hummed a lullaby to calm him down, but it didn't work.

After a few minutes tiny fists gripped at baby clothes and Frigga finally understood. 

“Oh dear” she mumbled as she magiced the white tunic that coated him away, leaving only the cloth diappers to cover him. “How could I not notice? There, much better now, isn't it?”

The baby squealed and giggled in delight. The woman smiled warmly. So much time had passed since she had heard such a pure, innocent sound. Thor had long left his earliest childhood centuries ago and was becoming independent, and it felt so good to have another child to care for, someone who depended on her.

A soft knocking on the door brought her out of her thoughts. She turned. “You may come in.”

The door opened after her command, revealing a middle-aged man with a tanned face, grey eyes and a thick brown mane covered by his silver helmet. “Good morn, Allmother.”

Frigga nodded at the guard. “Good morn indeed, Tyr” the woman greeted back. “What brings you here?”

The general straightened and cleared his troath solemnly. The queen fought the urge to raise an eyebrow at him. “Prince Thor and the coregents of Vanaheim have arrived, my Queen” Tyr announced. “They are in the Throne Room. The Allfather requests your presence, your Highness.”

The queen pressed her lips on a thin line and hummed quietly, suppressing the urge to beam at his words. _‘So they are finally here’,_ she thought.

“All right” the Allmother said as she turned towards the crib, ready to put her son to rest again when Tyr's deep voice stopped her.

“The Allfather also said that it should be suitable to bring Prince Loki as well, your Majesty.”

Frigga inhaled a sharp breath and she spun around to face him again, sapphire blue eyes tinted by concern.  
“Has he told you why is that, general?”, she inquired. Tyr shook his head, looking slightly apologetic.

“He has not, my Queen.”

The monarch sighed. Her husband and his obsession with secrets. Was it not enough to wipe out every evidence of the existence of their firstborn and his plans of keeping Loki's heritage hidden, that he had to make a secret of this as well?

“So be it, then” she finally stated and grabbed a thin blancket to wrap the baby in before leaving the nursery and headed to the Throne Room, escorted closely by Tyr.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

  
Thor couldn't help but feel joy at seeing his father again. He had the urge to ran up the steps leading to the throne and climb on the king's lap, but the young prince scolded himself.

  
 _‘He_ _lied_ _to you’,_ the kid reminded himself, _‘You must be angry’._

The sound of Gungnir pounding solemnly on the floor made him jump where he was standing.

“Greetings, my boy” Odin's powerful voice echoed in the room. There was a slight, almost completely hidden loving tone in it.

Thor straightened and nodded to him, trying to look as detached and relaxed as possible. “Hello father” he said.

Odin raised an eyebrow at him. His right eyebrow. That's when Thor noticed the eyepatch. The child gasped.

“Father, your eye!” he exclaimed, worry dripping off his voice as he took a step forward. His aunt's hand coming to rest gently on his shoulder stopped him.

Odin nodded gratefully at Freya. They couldn’t let Thor make a scene in front of the Einherjar. The Vanir Queen nodded back.

“I am fine, my son” the King of the Golden Realm assured him. Then he shifted his gaze to his wife's siblings and he bowed his head. “Frey and Freya of Vanaheim, welcome to Asgard”

Both twins smiled their best fake smiles.

“Thank you, _Allfather_ ” Frey said. The Asgardian also forced a smile at the bitter tone the man had put on his title.

“We are family, Frey. You are more than allowed to call me Odin” he stated.

The Vanir's smile widened, but his lips clearly twitched at the reminder of his older sister's marriage. Odin's smile became more genuine then.

  
An uncomfortable silence filled the room for several minutes that felt like centuries.

 _‘What's taking_ _Tyr_ _so long?’,_ Odin thought.

 _‘That son of a_ _bilgesnipe_ _...’,_ Frey cursed inwardly.

 _‘Men. Couldn't they be less obvious?’,_ Freya complained as she held back an annoyed groan.

 _‘Did the Frost_ _Giants_ _rip_ _father's eye out?’,_ Thor wondered, becoming even more furious than he already was by the minute. _‘How dare they?!’_

The tension was so intense that the Einherjar guarding the door thought they would have to interfere when the aristocrats inevitably tried to tear each other's troaths out. Never before had they been this relieved to see the queen entering the chamber. Odin was the first who noticed his wife's presence.

“My Queen” he said, drawing the other's attention to said woman as well.

This time Thor found trying to seem uninterested impossible and he instantly beamed at his mother. The young thunderer reproached himself for being this easy to manipulate, but Frigga's soothing voice made all the bitterness fade away.

“Oh, Thor. My little warrior, how have you been? Were there many adventures to be had in Vanaheim?”

The kid giggled, remembering how he had tried to explore the forest on his own, and how he had almost befriended a bilgesnipe cub. Then his uncle had found him and told him not to do that again (for the _third_ time).

“Yes there were, mother!” he happily exclaimed as he stepped toward her... but then he noticed the small bundle that she held on her arms and he stopped dead in his tracks, staring with equal amounts of surprise and interest at the unknown wrapped-up-in-his-old-blancket-thing. “Mother? What is that?”

Frigga kept herself from laughing and smiled at her son. “Not _what_ , Thor. _Who_ ” she replied.

The kid blinked. “I don't understand, mother.” His confusion was quite obvious. The queen chuckled quietly and shifted her arms so her son could see the infant she carried. Thor's eyes widened as pale eyelids fluttered open and sleepy green eyes met his electric blue ones.

“This is Loki” Frigga said, “He's your little brother.”

Several seconds passed and Thor just stood there, opening his mouth and closing it several times, making a perfect imitation of a gasping fish.

  
A brother. He had a brother. He was about to protest, but his uncles's surprised exclamations stopped him.The Vanir twins stepped closer to their sister as well, also wanting to see their new nephew. Pretending surprise was almost too easy for them.

Odin sighed. _‘Can't we just have a formal meeting for once?’_

“So the rumors we heard about the second Prince of Asgard were true,” Frey said. “Congratulations sister, Odin.”

“Ah, such a beautiful child!” Freya cooed as she peered down at her nephew. “And what a curious color of eyes and hair he has! Hasn't he, brother?”

“Indeed he does, sister” the male Vanir agreed with a glint in his eyes.

Frigga and Odin both stiffened and they shared a look. They _knew_ , didn't they?

The twins smirked.

 _Of course_ they knew.

The queen was the first who was able to react to their words. She called for one of her handmaidens, a young auburn haired woman with big brown eyes and tanned skin who was waiting by the door, and immediately followed her queen's command. The young maid entered the chamber and bowed to all the monarchs before turning to Frigga, who carefully handed Loki over to her. Then the Allmother crouched down beside her son and smiled warmly at him. “Could you accompany Astra to take Loki to the nursery, please darling?” Frigga asked, taking advantage of the fact that the baby had begun to shift uncomfortably because of the sudden attention he received. “I think he's getting a bit nervous here, and we have to discuss something important now”

Thor frowned. “But Lady Astra already knows the way to the nursery” he replied with a slight pout. “And I want to be with you, mother.”

Frigga sighed and she gently removed a blond lock of hair from his face. “Yes, she knows where it is, but her afternoon break will be soon and someone will have to look over your brother,” she explained. Then she leaned in and kissed his forehead affectionately. “And don't you fret love, I'll go with you as soon as I can.”

The child pursed his lips but nodded nonetheless. Frigga's smile widened and she pressed another kiss, this time on his cheek before standing up again.

“Come with me, my Prince,” the handmaiden said softly and Thor reluctantly obeyed, but he did not leave the Throne Room without one last look over his shoulder. He wold demand an explanation about his brother later, and that was something everyone in that chamber (even the guards) knew.

When Astra lead Thor out of the chamber, Freya and Frey turned to look at Frigga. Frey smirked.

“So. How have you been, sister?”

  
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

  
“... And if he's hungry, there are milk bottles in the cupboard,” Astra said. “Is it all clear, my Prince?”

Thor nodded absmindedly, incapable of paying any real attention to Astra's instructions. All he could think about was this unexpected turn of events, so the young prince barely even noticed when the woman wished him good luck and promptly exited the room.

Silence filled the nursery for what felt like millenia.

The older boy glared at the baby, and the infant stared back with the same intensity. So he was a formidable enemy, then.

Thor huffed. What were his parents thinking? He was away from home for less than a century and they already tried to replace him?

Oh no. He would not tolerate that.

“And you are the one who's supposed to supplant me?” the child asked. He huffed when Loki tilted his head. “Well, I'm afraid that's an impossible task, foe! I am the mighty Thor, no one could ever accomplish such nonsense!” he finished pointing at himself.

The baby just looked at his finger as if it was the most interesting thing in the Nine Realms. Thor puffed his cheeks and scowled, arms crossed. How dare this excuse of an opponent to ignore him?! He pointed his index finger at him and snarled furiously.

“Listen here you–!”

Loki grabbed his finger and smiled a toothless grin.

Thor blinked. The infant laughed.

_He laughed_ at him, and that should have enraged him even more, right? But for a reason he didn't know, it did not. In fact, it was kind of cute. Thor shook his head. No, he would not fall for any of his enemy's tricks! But his oponent was adorable, he had to admit that. And he didn't look evil...

Then a sudden thought ocurred to him. _What if this isn't a_ _replacement_ _, but some_ _sort_ _of gift?_

The baby burped. Thor scrunched up his nose.

Well, no one said it had to be a great gift.

So, now that the question of the enemy was discarded, an awkward silence filled the nursery. Thor shuffled his feet and hummed uneasily. “So ye're going to be around for a while, aren't ya?” he jokingly asked in an attempt to break the tension. It didn't work out well. The child just kept staring at him with big, curious emerald eyes. Thor tilted his head and poked the little one's nose, making the child cross his eyes, “Not one for conversation, I see.”

The baby giggled and, this time, got a surprisingly firm grip on his finger with his tiny ones. Thor looked at him startledly and smiled when the child laughed again. _‘I must not be surprised._ _We_ _share the same blood, after all!’_

“Oh, you are really strong, little brother!” he exclaimed.

_Little brother._ He had never expected to use those words. But. He liked how they sounded.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.

“Gha” the infant babbled happily. A warm smile made its way on Thor's lips and he gently squeezed his brother's hand.

“Welcome to the family, Loki.”


	2. The letter, the prince and the spellbook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving a letter from her siblings, Frigga travels to Vanaheim with her youngest son.  
> Meanwhile Odin has a rough day in the court, and Thor is in a quest to Svartalfheim with his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Loki would be the Asgardian equivalent of a 7 year-old, and Thor would be 17.

_CHAPTER_ _TWO_  
 _The letter, the prince and the_ _spellbook_

It was too early in the morning to deal with this. There were too many confusing things going on, so Frigga allowed herself to space out even if it was just for a few minutes.

Instead of paying attention to her surroundings, the Allmother focused on the events that had happened before this precise moment: Heimdall contacting with Odin to announce that the coregents of Vanaheim wanted to send an herald with a letter for them, said messenger (a poor boy who looked overwhelmed to be in their presence) giving the mail and then making the quickest farewell she had ever seen, they reading the letter... And now here she was, on the table beside her siblings with her stubborn youngest son because Loki was practically _supplicating_ — which was a strange thing for him to do indeed —to see his aunt and uncle.

Now that Frigga had been able to cool down with the reminder of the real cause of their visit, she could finally focus on the bizarre scene in front of her.

Loki was a quiet child. Back when he was a baby his laughter and cries were all quiet, almost frighteningly so. Even now that he was five hundred years old his voice was velvety and soft, almost a whisper that very rarely rose and was never heard unless someone addressed him.

That's why it was shocking for Frigga when he began to ask Frey and Freya questions briskly during breakfast instead of eating silently and sending discreet glances at them like she thought he would. Loki had only seen his uncles a few times in his whole life and yet there he was, shamelessly trying to satiate his curiosity. How in the Nine was that possible? He hardly even smiled when Astra, his old nursemaid greeted him in the corridors of the palace!

“Why does this Realm have two suns?” was which felt like the thousandth question the child had asked in the _two minutes_ that had passed since they had come to the dining hall.

“Calm down, Loki” Frigga said, gaining Frey, Freya and her son's attention. “Let your uncles eat.”

The young prince looked at her with pleading eyes, a slight pout on his face that he instantly vanished when he saw the stern expression of the queen. His gaze fell down to his plate and he reluctantly grabbed a piece of toasted bread. “Yes, mother.”

Frey shook his head and smiled a flippant smile at her. “Come on sister, don't be too harsh with the boy.” Then he looked at the child and moved his chair a bit closer to him, and as if he was going to tell him a secret, he lowered his voice. “You'll see little one, Vanaheim is a big planet, so with two suns we can have day and night at the same time, everywhere. That way it is easier to travel all around.”

Loki hummed in thought and tilted his head. “But Asgard has only one sun and the same thing happens. And it's a much bigger Realm.”

Frey's smile tightened. “That is because this one is sphere shaped, and yours is flat.”

“Ah” Loki nodded. “I see.”

A tense pause followed the child's words. The male coregent of Vanaheim turned his attention back to his meal and continued to eat quietly as her sisters stared awkwardly at each other.

“So” Freya said to break the ice. “Isn't Thor coming to visit us this time?”

Frigga smiled gratefully at her. “No, I'm afraid he will not. My eldest went out in a quest with his friends and has still not returned” she informed.

Frey's eyes lit up with interest and he looked up at her, rapidly swallowing the bite he had just taken. “Oh. Where did he go this time? Nidavellir? Alfheim, perhaps?”

The older Vanir shook her head and sighed. “Svartalfheim” the queen quietly corrected. The concern in her voice was barely concealed, and it dripped off the word in waves that even a woman with much experience concealing her emotions couldn't hide.

The eyes of both twins widened in surprise. Freya choked on her drink and covered her mouth with one of her hands as she coughed. When she composed herself once again, she sent a bewildered look at Frigga. “ _What?”_

Frey took a sharp breath and stiffened. “Why did they want to go there?” he asked.

Loki's gaze shifted from the twins to his mother and vice-versa. He didn't understand what was happening, why were they all so worried? The Dark Elves were extinct since the war grandfather Bor won, so what was the problem in going to an abandoned world?

Frigga pursed her lips and turned to gaze at Loki with an unreadable look in her clouded blue eyes. “Sweety, would you mind to go and play in the gardens? My brother, sister and I have some adult themes to discuss.”

Loki knew that tone. It was that tactful yet stern way of talking the queen used when there was diplomatic event about to or already happenning. So instead of asking the reason why she wanted him gone he just nodded, gave Frey and Freya a polite bow and walked out of the room.

Silence took over the dining hall once the three siblings were left alone. It was Freya, once again, who broke it.

“Why did you let Thor go there, sister?” she asked, a worried frown crumpling her forehead. “You know there are bandits who use the Realm as a refuge, it is dangerous.”

Frigga took a sharp breath and lifted her chin slightly. “Thor is not the one you want to talk about, isn't it, Freya?” Neither of the twins answered. The Allmother didn't need them to. “You wrote that letter so we could talk about a prince of Asgard, and I believe my eldest is not the one you had in mind.”

The younger Vanir looked at each other briefly before facing her again. Frey leaned forward over the table, clasping his hands atop of it. “You are right” he admited. “As you always are, Frigga.”

The Queen of Asgard clenched her jaw. “Flattery will not take you anywhere, brother.” Then she straightened her back and tried not to appear as tense as she actually was.

“True, let's just go straight to the point Frey” the other female said as she stared deeply into her older sister's eyes. “It's been four hundred years since you took him into your household, why haven't you told him yet?”

Frigga stiffened. Of course this was what they wanted to talk about. What else could it be? “It is still too soon to tell him. Don't you know what the Asgardians say about the Jotnar?” She sighed. “To learn the truth of his heritage now would be a huge blow, it would destroy him. When he is older, stronger, then we will tell him.”

One of Frey's eyebrows rose. “Do you honestly think that, with time, that blow will soften? That it will affect him less?”

The eldest gritted her teeth. “Of course not. But he may be more confident, he might care not for the silly stories he heard as a child and take it better.”

“Or he may take it even worse because you didn't stop those horrendous tales about _his own people_ ,” Freya countered. Her lips were tightly pressed into a thin line, her brows forming an angry scowl at her sister.

“I cannot stop a whole Realm from talking, and you know it well. I wish I could.”

“But you could contradict them,” Frey said. “You could tell your sons that your people are wrong, that no creature is born a monster.” Then he leaned further across the table, resting his weight on his forearms. “ _Why_ _don't you do it?”_ The Allmother didn't say anything, and Frey let a wry grin spread on his face. “You think like them, don't you?”

Frigga backed away as if she had been slapped. She shook her head and clenched her fists under the table, digging her nails into her palms to leep from shouting. “Don't you dare to suggest such nonsense, you know me better than that.”

“Then why don't you tell them what you _know_ about the Jotnar?” Freya asked.

“It would be suspicious for them if I did. They are clever boys, they would know that I was hiding something.”

The twins looked at each other again, sharing a glance Frigga could not decipher and then Frey stood up from his chair. “I see” he mumbled. “Now if you excuse me, dear sisters, I have an audience to attend.”

And so he left the chamber, leaving two confused women behind the intricately carved wooden doors. Only one of them was truly stunned.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Loki sat cross-legged on a bench, keeping himself cool in the shade of the porch while the sun rays hit the plants outside.

The gardens of this palace were not nearly as beautiful as the ones they had back in Asgard. Blue daisies, red lillies and white roses were littered all over the place. There were also at least a dozen kinds of fowers he didn't even recognize, and they were all lovely, but... They seemed somewhat fake, as if the whole garden only existed for posturing. And maybe it did, Loki didn't know much about Vanir culture. He made a mental note to ask Freya and Frey later.

Suddenly, a large butterfly with white wings landed on one of his fingers. Loki blinked at it. The butterfly didn't move. Not even when the prince stared intently at it, nor when he lifted his hands to level it to his eyes.

Loki decided he liked this butterfly. It was fearless and brave, the perfect companion for a true warrior.

Maybe mother would let him bring it home as a pet. She had already said no to a cat, a dog, a frog and a mouse, and for some reason he couldn't understand she and father had looked scandalized when he had brought a wolf cub who was alone in the forest to the palace. Loki guessed it was because they thought it would be risky. But what harm could a butterfly do? Exactly, none. 

Perhaps he should think of a name for it, and so Frigga would see his earnestness about this. First he had to know if it was actually a ‘she’ or a ‘he’ to name it properly. Was there any way to discover its gender? Maybe if he shapeshifted into a butterfly and asked... _Wait_ _._ Did butterflies even have genders? Would it be rude to ask?

“That's some lovely specimen you have there, nephew.”

Oh thanks Gods of Valhalla for this blessed interruption. He would've ended up going mad if he had continued that train of thought for much longer.

Carefully lifting his gaze from the butterfly he made his eyes roam up the tall masculine figure in front of him. Loki grinned. “Hello again, uncle Frey!”

The king patted his head affectionately. “Greetings, little one.” Then Frey crouched down to be at his same height and looked at him intently in the eyes. A mischievous grin appeared on his face and he raised a finger to his own lips. “I have a gift for you,” the Vanir said and chuckled when the child's brows knitted together in confusion, his lips slightly twisting downwards. It was one of those few gestures he had inherited from Frigga.

“A gift? For _me_?” Loki bewilderingly asked.

That was unusual. Don't get it wrong, of course Loki received gifts on his birthday or special ocasions, but this was unexpected. There wasn't any celebration, any obvious reason for it.

So Loki felt puzzled.

Frey raised his eyebrows. “Yes, that's what I said” then he shook his head and his ~~fake~~ smile returned. “But you have to promise that you will not tell your parents, all right?”

The prince's frown deepened. He wanted him not to–

“Why?”

The king bowed his head slightly, the tips of his lips quirking in a way that made his grin look just as secretive and mischievous as the ones Loki usually wore. “Because it is a special gift,” he purred, “And _magical._ They may think it is dangerous for you, especially your overprotective mother.”

Loki's face lit up. “Magical?” Frey nodded. The young prince's eyes widened in curiosity. “Why could it be dangerous?”

“Dear nephew, everything that involves seiðr _can be_ dangerous, and it _is_ on its own way,” he replied. Then he pulled his hands from behind his back, pulling out a dusty thick book with dark green, almost black covers that looked like it hadn't been opened in centuries. Frey waved his hand over the book to remove the dust and gazed more intensely at the prince, if that was even possible. “This is an ancient spellbook my mother gave me.”

“Grandmother?” Loki asked in a whisper. He had never met her, she having died long before he was born, but Frigga had told him so many stories about her mother that he felt like he actually knew her.

“Yes, kid,” Frey agreed with a nod. “I always planned on giving it to my own son or daughter if I ever got them, but as you can see I do not, so... I thought you may like to have it instead.” And then he held the book out for him to get.

Loki hesitated. Everything about this situation was weird, and he had this strange feeling that told him Frey was not telling the truth. Maybe he wasn't, Loki himself had seen the unspoken tension between his father and the King of Vanaheim, maybe...

The child shook his head. This was not some king from another Realm, this was _uncle Frey_ , the kind, ever so patient man who always answered his questions, weird as they were. Uncle Frey would never be moved by something such as a petty rivalry, he was just being paranoid. So now having come to an internal agreement, Loki reached out to grab the book (sadly realizing that the butterfly had flown away), and he stored it into his leather sac.

When he and his mother returned to Asgard that evening, wide grins spread on the lips of the twins.

~•~•~•~•~•~

  
Telekinesis, illusions, pyrokinesis, shapeshifting and several different kinds of spells more, all gathered in this book. All amazing.

To say Loki was thrilled would be an understatement. His heart hammered at top speed insise his chest, his palms were sweaty and he couldn't erase the wide grin that had been formed on his face.

He leafed through the spellbook with eagerness. He definitely _was not_ bouncing on his chair in excitement.

His secret gift laid open atop of one of the palace library's tables, ready to show him all its ‘dangerous’ secrets. Loki was sitting on a chair, kicking his feet on the air as he skimmed through the pages.

Mind reading, healing spells, potion recips, skywalking, hydrokinesis...

Wait a minute.

 _Skywalking_?

With his brows knitting together in curiosity, Loki went back to the previous page and read the title of the chapter again.

No, his sight had not fooled him.

There it was, written with big bold letters right in the middle of the page. Several words from the paragraphs had been underlined with a quill pen. « _Traveling_ », « _relic_ », « _Tesseract_ »— wasn't that one of the Infinity Stones father talked about? —, « _fabric_ » and some more. They had surely been marked by uncle Frey or by grandmother when they were studying the book.

He had never heard of this spell. It must be a spell used for traveling, by the look of it. The inked drawings plastered on the old, slightly yellowish paper were entrancing, and he brushed his fingertips lightly against them in fascinated wonder.

The sudden clearing of a throat startled him.

“Prince Loki?”

The child turned around abruptly, unconsciously holding his breath. If his family saw the spellbook they would ask until he told them, and then they would take it away and they'd be angry at uncle Frey and–

Oh.

It wasn't his family. The intruder was a man long in years with long white hair and dark brown eyes. Loki recognized him: it was Birger, one of the palace's servants.

“Greetings, Burger,” Loki saluted him with a polite smile.

The man's blank expression morphed into a concerned one ( _oh Norns, what trick is he planning now?),_ but he bowed his head respectfully nonetheless. “I've been summoned to take you to the dining hall, my Prince. Your family awaits.”

Loki's mouth formed an ‘o’ for a second. He sighed in relief and stood up from his sit, discretely harboring the dark green book into his pocket dimension. “Very well. Let's go, then.”

And so they exited the library and marched rapidly towards the mess hall.

Maybe, if he had not been so anxious, the young prince would've noticed that the ink in which the words had been underlined was relatively fresh.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Once he was left alone in the Throne Room, Odin sighed. Rubbing a hand across his face he let out a tired groan.

It had been a rough day for the King of Asgard.

Ruling was never an easy task, but in summer madness always broke loose among the civilians. It seemed as the high temperatures made them all more careless, but it also increased their sensibility and, as a result, they were offended by the most foolish things their fellow citizens did.

Just today he had had four audiences for supposed robberies, two because of silly quarrels between neighbors, three for people who wanted to complain about the drought ruining their crops and one because of the owner of a tavern wanted to denounce the damage inflicted to his local by a drunken fight. And those were only the ones that were not absurd.

So, yes. Odin was tired. That was why he felt so relieved when Frigga entered the room.

Without caring about the goofy smile spreading across his lips the Allfather bowed his head in acknowledgement. “My queen, what a pleasant surprise.”

Frigga stopped walking just before the steps of the throne. “Husband” she greeted him with a grin of her own. “I came to know if you have finished your royal duties already.”

Odin laughed quietly. “The duties of a king never end,” he stated, but he stood up from the throne all the same. “But if you require anything from me, I shall find the way to oblige you.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Will you, truly?”

“Of course.”

Frigga stared at him as he stepped down the stairs until he was right in front of her. She smirked. “For _anything_ I need?”

Odin grinned too. “Yes. Anything.”

The queen leaned closer to her husband, putting her hands on his shoulders. “If that's so...” she whispered. Her lips almost touched his ear as she spoke. “... Come to dinner at once.” Then she whirled around and left the chamber, leaving a stunned Odin behind her.

He blinked.

After several moments, the Allfather shook his head and followed his wife to the dining hall. When he reached her in the corridors, he huffed. “You little heckler.”

Frigga chuckled. “Darling, I am taller than you are.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh, do I?”

“Frigga...”

She smirked again. “Yes, indeed I do.”

Odin rolled his eye fondly. This was the woman he fell in love with. He hadn't been able to see this playful, sarcastic side of her in such a long time with all the council meetings, audiences and royal duties, as she had so eloquently put it.

But sadly, both of them had to be serious to talk about today's important matter. “What did Frey and Freya want?”

Frigga visibly stiffened and her smile vanished. “They wanted to talk” she said. Her gaze was fixed straight ahead.

The king frowned. “About what?”

“Loki's origins,” she replied with a low voice. She didn't want to risk anyone listening. “They wished to know when are we planning to tell him of them.”

Odin took a sharp breath.

So it was because of _that_. Of course it was, he had seen the way the twins looked at his younger son. They pitied the child's ignorance about his heritage, they judged the decision he took of not telling him. But he would not change anything, not now and certainly, not because of Frey and Freya.

“And what have you answered them?” he questioned, also lowering his voice until it was almost a whisper.

Frigga lifted her chin. “The truth,” she said. “That it is too soon to even think about it.”

“Good,” the Allfather mumbled with a nod.

The queen's eyebrows rose. “Did you doubt me, husband?”

“No. You know I do not.”

If Frigga was going to say something else, she decided against it. The rest of the way to the dining hall was in complete silence.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Dinner had been strange tonight. He had asked Thor a million questions about his quest on Svartalfheim, and his brother had given a detailed explanation about how he, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif had fought against some outlaws that were taking refuge on that forsaken Realm without omitting any mentions of blood and injuries. 

Their parents had not scolded him.

That was just as weird as it would be to hear Hogun speak.

The king and queen looked distracted, like if something was bothering them. The adults just hummed when they asked them if they were listening. Loki and Thor felt helpless.

_Maybe they are just tired,_ the youngest of the Odinsons mused as he put on his silken nightshirt. People used to do odd things when they were worn out. Loki himself was weird when he felt sleepy, he became chatty and inattentive.

He was already tucking himself in the bed when someone knocked on the door. The prince crooked his head towards the room's entrance. “You can come in.” The door peeled open and a femenine figure entered in the chambers. Loki recognized her immediately. “Hello mother.”

Frigga smiled. “Hello, my son.” She walked towards the mattress and she sat on its edge, looking at him lovingly. “I see you're all ready to go to sleep.”

“Yes,” he said even though the Allmother hadn't asked a question.

Frigga chuckled and raised an amused eyebrow. “Then I think I will only have to say goodnight, huh?”

Loki nodded.

The queen cupped his cheek affectionately and smiled at him once again. “Goodnight, Loki.” Frigga started to move, but before she could stand up her son's voice stopped her.

“Mother?” he asked softly.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“What do you know about skywalking?”

Frigga's breath got caught in her chest. Trying to keep her calm mask on but unable to hold her concern from dripping off her expression, the queen pursed her lips and took a wild curl out of her son's face. “And why do you ask about that, little one?”

The wheels turned in Loki's head faster than ever before. He could not tell his mother about uncle Frey's gift, that would be breaking his promise! So what he had to do was think about a credible enough excuse to tell the know-it-all Allmother, and better do it quick. 

Then's when he remembered something aunt Freya had told him a long time ago: sometimes the better lies are the ones which are mixed with truth.

He could try that.

“I found a spellbook that talked about it on the library, just a few hours ago. I was about to read it when Birger came to fetch me for dinner,” Loki said. He was impressed— and honestly a little bit scared too — of how quick and easy the lie had come out. Even though it wasn't completely a lie, tho.

The Queen of Asgard frowned. “I see,” she mumbled. Then she exhaled deeply and added with a louder tone, “Skywalking is a dangerous spell, sweetheart. I believe it is better if you don't try it for a few centuries yet.”

“But mother, I do not plan to try it,” Loki replied. “I just wish to know more about it.” And then he gave her the best innocent smile he could manage.

Frigga sighed. “All right,” she finally agreed, but she held out a finger before he could thank her. “ _But_ you have to swear you will not attempt anything, not for now.”

The young prince nodded solemnly. “I swear.”

She sighed again. “Reality, my son, is like an intricate fabric. And so it's space,” the queen started. Her voice had adopted that soft, sobering tone she always used when she explained something, and Loki barely supressed a smile. “To find its threads is nearly impossible, and to reshape them, even more so. Lots of seiðrmasters have tried to, but practically no one has ever been able to do it without a relic. Like the Tesseract, for example.” Frigga made a pause. She grinned when she saw Loki staring intently at her, taking in her every word as if they were water and he was a thirsty man. “It is very difficult to mess with the threads, impossible, some dare to say. Most sorcerers just try to detect which part of the fabric is frayed so they can rip it completely. Some of them, the more ambitious ones attempt to tear it wherever they want. That never turns out well.”

Silence filled the room after her explanation and, for a few brief moments, Frigga thought her son would just accept the information and proceed to go to sleep. _Wrong_ _._ Really, when did he ever do that?

“Practically no one...” He was interrupted by a yawn. “But then someone managed to do it, right?”

The Allmother stiffened. If Loki hadn't been more asleep than awake in that moment, he would have noticed. 

Frigga nodded slowly. “Yes darling. Someone.”

“Who?”

A forced smile spread on the queen's lips. She leaned down to press a kiss on his forehead and stood up from the bed. “That's a story for another day, sweety.” _A very far off in the_ _future_ _one._ “For now go to sleep, Loki.”

Then Frigga turned off the oil lamp and, glancing at her son over her shoulder one last time, she walked out of the room. 

She didn't realize the mistake she had made at making him promise not to try it _now._ Because in Loki's trickster mind, tomorrow was not part of that expression of time.


	3. The hammer and the red haired girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor's coming off age, and the rulers of Asgard have a discussion about his birthday present. Also Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three spar, Loki goes for a walk and things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Human-equivalent ages:  
> Loki: almost 8 Sigyn: 9 Thor:18 Hogun: 19 Sif: 17 Fandral: 18  
> Volstagg: 23

_CHAPTER THREE_

_The hammer and the red haired girl_

The blank faces and phony smiles on the ceiling murals seemed to be mocking her. As she walked across the throne room, Frigga tried to avoid looking at those lifeless eyes with all her might.

She had never truly liked them.

Not because of the arrogance of plastering their recent victories all over the ceiling to gloat, she was already used to the Allfather's pride, but for the other winned battles hidden behind the most recent layer of paint. The wars her _daughter_ had fought and won by Odin's side. The queen couldn't say she was proud of the bloodthirsty warrior she had allowed her husband to create, but Hela was her true firstborn and she loved her despite everything.

Frigga remembered how innocent Hela had been as a young child, always running to her in her prefered green nightgown and asking about old Vanir stories before her bedtime. The Allmother never forgave Odin for instilling such a bloodlust into their little girl, and then erasing her from the people's minds. She didn't forgive herself for letting it happen either.

Shaking her head and wipping away the wetness that had accumulated in her eyes with the back of her hand, Frigga lifted her chin and exited the chambers, moving through the corridors and avoiding the palace's staff swiftly. The servants stayed away from her path. They knew when their Queen was in the mood for polite chitchat and when she was ready to murder her husband. Frigga smirked for a second. _Good_.

Today was the eldest prince's thousanth birthday. Thor had not yet awoken, but everything was ready since the night before. Frigga had hoped that the only one receiving a surprise would be her son, so it was shocking for her when one of her handmaidens asked if the rumors about Odin giving Mjölnir to Thor were true.

The queen was seething.

Most people would say that she should ask him first before jumping to conclusions, but come on. It was Odin we are talking about. So after politely dimissing her handmaidens, Frigga had stormed out of her chambers and started to make her way towards the vault. It didn't surprise her at all when she indeed found him there, standing in front of the stand in which the previously mentioned weapon was held.

“So it _is_ true.”

Odin didn't get startled at hearing his wife's voice. He had known she would come here once she heard the rumors the servants inevitably spread around the palace. Instead of turning around to face her, the Allfather merely took a step to the side to allow his Queen to move beside him. “It is,” was all he said.

Frigga pursed her lips and stepped forward, her eyes also falling onto the shape of the mighty hammer laying in front of them. The Allmother glowered at Mjölnir the same way she wanted to do to Odin. “How dare you,” she whispered. “How dare you plan this without telling me?”

The king took a deep breath. “You know why.”

“Oh, I know” Frigga indignantly said as she clenched her fists. “It is because I would've told you this was madness from the moment you opened your mouth.”

Odin sighed. He said nothing else.

Frigga scowled. She didn't understand. The only thing that hammer had ever brought was chaos and death, and now Odin wanted to give it to their son? Did he wish for history to repeat itself? Once again on that day, her thoughts came back to Hela. Mjölnir had been a gift on their firstborn's five hundredth birthday, a weapon that would help her to canalize her power once she was ready to fight on the battlefield. At the time Frigga didn't know that Hela would start using it just a century later, when every mortal who saw her believed her to be an eleven year-old child. The Allmother really wished she had known sooner so she could've destroyed that blasted hammer.

“Thor is off age now,” Odin eventually spoke after several tense, silent minutes. “And he's been going on quests while thinking we didn't notice for centuries now. We will not be able to stop him from doing so forever.”

The queen turned her head to look at her partner and frowned. “And you are just going to give him a weapon,”— _Hela's weapon_ , they both understood—“So he can cause even more destruction?”

The grip of his fingers on Gungnir tightened until his knuckles turned white as the barely visible wrinkles on his forehead deepened in a badly concealed concern. “Thor is not like her, Frigga. Our son will not seek out war.”

The Allmother snorted. “Then what will he do? Mjölnir is not precisely a toy, husband.”

“I am well aware of that,” the king mumbled. His face seemed much older now, and it was only as he rubbed his face with his free hand and exhaled deeply that Frigga noticed just how tired he was. “I wish we could've waited more, but Thor is stubborn. If he wants to go on a quest, he will. You know it. It will be better if he at least has something to defend himself and his friends.”

Indeed, Frigga did know that was true. She still remembered that trip to Svartalfheim their eldest did a few months ago, when he begged them to let him go and then left anyway when they told him not to. They both had been too preoccupied by Freya and Frey to scold him that night, but that had not saved him from being grounded the next day. And the rest of the week.

“Oh, darling” she said as she pressed herself onto his side. Now she understood: he didn't want to do this either, but he was going to do it anyway for their son's safety. She could relate to that. Odin put his arm around her waist, and Frigga leaned her head on his shoulder. “You are right. But... Why give him Mjölnir? Isn't there any other weapon he could use?”

Odin shook his head. “There are, but do you remember why this one was special?” Feeling Frigga nod against the crook of his neck, the Allfather continued. “Thor still doesn't control his power and, with Mjölnir, he's going to be able to canalize his thunder at his command.”

It made sense. It upset Frigga how much sense it did. Thor didn't know how to handle his abilities, that much was painfully clear. All the times he had ruffled Loki's hair and Loki had ended up looking like a very frightened cat were a proof of that. The little one had even begun to slick back his hair with sticky oils so it would stay back in place when the electricity tried to mess it up. Frigga chuckled at the memory. “That's true,” she admitted. “You are right, it is the best fitting weapon for our son.”

Odin sighed in relief when his wife agreed with him and, once again, the monarchs fell into silence as they stared at Mjölnir, offering each other solace as memories from the past came crushing back to both of them.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

  
Sif hit the ground harshly, sending a jolt of pain across all the bones of her body. Cursing through gritted teeth, the warrioress pushed herself to her knees and wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. Suddenly the tip of a practice sword was pointed at her neck, forcing her to tilt her head upwards. The smug smirk plastered on her opponent's face met her.

“Do you yield?”

The shieldmaiden narrowed her eyes and, with a fluid movement, she kneed her challenger's shin, making him howl in pain and giving her enough time to grab her sword and stand up into a defensive stance. “Never,” she answered with a smirk of her own.

Rubbing his leg hastily, Thor looked up at her and his eyes lit up. He was delighted to be able to keep sparring for some more time. After composing himself the prince charged at her again, making their swords clash together ruthlessly. The sound of metal against metal made the adrenaline bubble fervently inside of him, and seeing the wild smile on his opponent's face he knew she felt the same. Thor grinned.

A few meters away, carefully trying to avoid putting pressure onto their fresh bruises, the Warriors Three sat on the grassy field as they watched their friends fight. This was a routine for them on each of their birthdays, to go to the forest and spend hours sparring at the clearing until someone had to come and call them to come home. It was their tradition.

“You go, Sif!” Fandral exclaimed as he punched the air cheerfully. “Show Your Highness how us commoners fight!”

Sif chuckled. “It would be my pleasure,” she said while dodging a blow to her side. “... But you are part of the court! All of us are now, we are not _commoners_ anymore!”

The swords clashed against each other again.

“You are not entirely right about that, my lady” Volstagg said with an amused grin. “I'm afraid I am not part of your crew. ”

Both sparring partners stepped away from each other, the two of them having been turned into panting messes. The prince turned to look at the redhead and rested the end of his sword on the ground, laying his weight onto the weapon as if it was a cane. “ _Yet_ , my friend. My father's still preparing the documents, it must take a long time until it's all ready.”

“That's true,” the dashing warrior said and then patted the older man's back reassuringly. “Mine took almost a year to be finished.”

“So did mine,” Sif added as she walked up to the three of them and flopped down onto the floor. Beside her, Hogun nodded. They all guessed that meant « _mine too»._

Volstagg eyed them quietly, analyzing their soft eyes and soothing smiles for several seconds. Then, to their atonishment, he snorted and bursted out laughing. “My friends, I do not need to be comforted! I care little about my official status as long as I am still able to feed my family!”

At that the rest didn't know what to respond. Sif cleared her throat. “By the way, how is everything going? It's been a long time since I last saw your sister in law.”

Volstagg sighed. “She's getting better, but...” he trailed off, running a hand through his red curls as he tried to find the most suitable words to say.

He failed.

The warrioress nodded, leaning towards him to put an understanding hand on his shoulder. Silence overtook them once again, this time grieving instead of awkward. A few years ago Daven, Volstagg's older brother died from a fatal sickness he got in one of the Einherjar missions on Alfheim, leaving a distressed widow and a young child behind. Since then both of them had been living with their friend, who had joined the palace's guard to gain money. It had been some rough years for the red haired warrior.

“Oh, come on!” Volstagg exclaimed out of the blue, cheerfulness suddenly taking over his voice and leaving no trace of the sadness that formerly coloured it. “Lose the long faces, lads! It's our Prince's birthday, we should be celebrating!”

That seemed to lift up all of their spirits again. Finally going to sit down next to his friends, Thor grinned widely and patted his knee in excitement. “Well said, Volstagg! We must do something to–!”

A gurgling croak interrupted him.

The young group looked up, startled to see one of Odin's ravens flying gracefully towards them. They all stood up immediately. Thor quickly extended his arm to let the bird land and smiled at it, not noticing how his friends frowned and stepped closer to him in concern. “Greetings, Huginn” he said. The raven flapped its wings and croaked in distaste. Thor laughed and stroked its back gently. “Oh, sorry. Forgive me, Muninn.” He didn't sound apologetic. “Do you bring me news from Father?” Now Muninn tilted its head and held out one of its legs, where a small roll of paper tied by a golden ribbon was held. Thor untied it and unwrapped the letter carefully.  
Once he was done reading, the prince clucked his tongue while he sheathed his practice sword. “I'm afraid I have to go, friends. My father wants to speak with me before the feast.”

The Warriors Three and Sif glanced at each other, worry creeping onto their faces further and faster as the prince said his farewells and ran towards the palace. The Allfather _never_ sent his ravens if there wasn't an emergency, or at least a serious inconvenience going on. Whatever he wanted to talk about, it must be important.

~•~•~•~•~

Both of them had been called by their father.

As they followed him, the two brothers looked at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes.

 _What is this all about?,_ Thor inquired.

The child shrugged. _I don't know._

The eldest frowned. _Really?_

Loki raised an eyebrow at him. _I am the sneaky one, not the_ _henchman_ _._

Thor sighed and looked forward again, staring doubtfully at Odin's armored back. _Fair_ _enough._ But even though the question of Loki being involved in this was answered, there were some more that still clouded the minds of both princes. Where was he leading them? Thor scowled. There was a purpose for everything his father did, or so his mother had always said. But what could he want to do in the Vault?

“The answer is not written on his back, brother” Loki whispered with a slight smirk on his face.

Thor rolled his eyes, but before he could open his mouth to reply Odin stopped walking, making both princes come to a halt abruptly.

Then, the Allfather spoke.

“Once, mankind accepted a simple truth: that they were not alone in this universe. Some worlds man believed to be home to their gods. Others, they knew to fear.” Odin tilted his head slightly towards the Casket, making both brothers stare at it in awestruck curiosity. “From a realm of cold and darkness came the Frost Giants, threatening to plunge the mortal world into a new ice age...” He paused. Beside him, Thor could feel Loki's shoulders tense up in suspense. “But humanity would not face this threat alone. Our armies drove the Frost Giants back into the heart of their own world. The cost was great. In the end, their king fell, and the source of their power was taken from them. With the last great war ended, we withdrew from the other worlds and returned home, to the Realm Eternal, Asgard.” With that, Odin paused again. “Here we remain as a beacon of hope, shining out across the stars. And though we have fallen into man's myths and legends, it was Asgard and its warriors that brought peace to the universe.” The Allfather stepped forward, getting closer to the Casket of Ancient Winters. Thor and Loki stayed close behind. “But the day will come when one of you will have to defend that peace.”

After the story was over, a deafening silence took over the chamber. The princes stared at the rightfully stolen relic, feeling proud of their father's remarkable victory. The Frost Giants were always described as fierce, rabid beasts guided by their bloodlust, and he had defeated them as if they were mere frozen ants.

How could they _not_ be proud?

“Do the Frost Giants still live?” Loki asked after several minutes.

Before the Allfather could answer, Thor turned to look at the child and put a hand on his chest, just over his heart. He grinned. “Do not fret, little brother. When I am king I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!” Loki stared up at the blond, nothing but pure admiration pouring into his factions. Then Thor shifted to glance at the king. “Just as you did, Father.”

Odin stiffened. A chill ran cold down his spine, and he turned to stare sternly at his sons. “A wise king _never_ seeks out war,” he said. Images of Hela running into the battlefield beside him, riding Fenrir with a wild smile plastered onto her face flooded his mind. He pursed his lips. No, neither of them would grow up to be like her. He would make sure that didn't happen. “... But he must always be ready for it.”

With that, Odin started to walk away. Thor and Loki looked at each other before rushing to catch up with their father. The eldest arrived by Odin's side first. “I'm ready, Father.”

It didn't take too long for Loki to tag along with them and grab the king's other hand. He looked up at his father and then glared at his brother. “So am I.”

Odin stared briefly at Thor. Then at his youngest. Two kids, both still innocent, still not fully aware of their birthright and heritage. _Not aware at all in Loki's case_ , a bitter voice in the back of his head was ready to remind him. Odin smiled, hoping it looked sincere and not as sour as his insides felt.

“Only one of you can ascend to the throne, but both of you were born to be kings.”

Truer words had never been spoken in that chamber and oh, how much he loathed to be the only one to understand the cruel irony they held.

~•~•~•~•~•~

  
The scorching heat of the afternoon was killing him. Metaphorically, of course.

Well, more or less.

The wetness on the air made his breathing become a difficult task and he had to open the first two buttons of his shirt in hopes to feel better, but sweat still clung to him like a second skin. The situation was starting to make him feel a bit lightheaded, but that wasn't going to make him change his plans for the evening. Oh no, he wasn't a crybaby. And it wasn't as if he had anything better to do than this.

Loki had never ventured outside of the palace by himself. He had always traveled with his mother or his brother, and he was never allowed to leave their side. But now they and all the court were busy in the feast, having made all the children leave (as if they had not already seen a dozen of drunken warriors before), and Loki was bored.

That was something to be feared.

Loki was _bored_ , and that implied that absolutely every servant who crossed his path was at high risk of being the unfortunate victim of a prank, hence every one of them tried their best to not-so-subtly avoid him. No one wanted to be turned into a frog or any other kind of gross, slimy creature the prince thought fit again.

So seeing that mischief wasn't an option today, the only thing that came to his mind to entretain himself was to wander out of the palace's golden gates, spellbook in hand to find a quiet place and study it properly. Since that day in the library, every time he tried to investigate it someone interrupted him. If it wasn't by his mother coming to offer him taking a stroll with her, it was Thor asking him to go sparring, or a servant coming to retrieve him.

It was as if the Norns didn't want him to read it. So that's exactly what Loki decided to do.

After changing his ceremonial armor to a simple green tunic, black pants and hanging his leather sac over his shoulder, he made his way into the city. The streets were completely empty, probably because everyone was eating with their families or at the feast. Loki found himself enjoying the silence, even though he hated the weather with all his heart and tried to stay close to the building's shadows as much as possible.

After half an hour of walking, he decided to stop and sit down on the cool floor under the shade of a nearby building, resting his back and head against the wall as he pulled the spellbook from his sac. While he searched for the right page (the bookmark must've fallen inside his pouch), someone cleared their throat to catch his attention.

Loki looked up calmly— he _definitely_ had not stiffened in surprise— and tilted his head. Before him stood two boys, both some centuries older than himself that were staring at him with amused grins on their faces. One of them was lanky and tall, with a mop of dirty blond hair and the other was shorter, with frizzy black hair and dark skin.

“Hello,” the tallest one said.

Loki raised an unimpressed eyebrow at them. “Hello,” he mimicked before returning his attention to the book on his lap.

The boys glanced at each other, and after a few seconds stared at the child once again. “It is a fine afternoon,” the shortest said this time.

Doing his best not to roll his eyes, the prince sighed and kept reading. Not wanting to talk with them for too long, Loki decided to humour him even though he was internally begging for a cold breeze. “It is.”

The blond guy waved a hand in front of his face, forcing him to look at them. Loki frowned. _Rude_. Apparently they didn't like to feel ignored. “Hey, we are talking to you!”

The dark-skinned boy nodded. “Yeah, don't you know gentlemen speak looking at each other in the eyes?”

Now Loki was starting to feel really annoyed. Couldn't they see he wanted to be left alone? Looking at both sides of the street, he put a mocking frown on his face and tilted his head as he started reading again. “Of course, but I'm afraid I cannot see any gentlemen around here. There are only two asses in front of me.”

Trying really hard not to laugh at their indignant gasps, the black haired child bit the inside of his cheek and turned over the page he had just finished. He didn't notice the enraged expressions on the faces of the two boys.

“How dare you?!” the short one exclaimed.

And suddenly the blond kicked Loki on the shoulder, hard, making him yelp and fall onto his side. “Apologize, you disrespectful fool!” he yelled. “If you don't want to befriend the floor, say you are sorry!”

Loki stood up abruptly, holding his spellbook tight to his chest and feeling heat rising to his face rapidly. Were they daring to threaten him? Didn't they know that threatening a member of the royal family was _treason_ _?_ And hitting him? They could easily spend a few nights in the dungeons for that.

He was about to shout and ask them if they knew who they were dealing with, when suddenly realization dawned over him. _They do not_ , he thought as his eyes grew wide. Loki had almost never ventured into the city, least of all with his casualwear and without other members of his family, of course they did not recognize him.

The boys stepped forward. Loki backed away.

For the first time in his life, the young prince felt completely and utterly afraid. _What would Thor do,_ he asked to himself as the boys kept getting closer. Well, that question was easy to answer: his older brother would call them by names his mother would punish him for saying, and then he'd proceed to fight them bravely until they surrendered. But Thor had experience, height and strenght on his side. Loki was shorter, obviously weaker and had only ever fought on the training grounds in General Tyr's classes. He had never been in a _real_ fight.

So, being way smaller than them and clearly outnumbered, Loki considered his possibilities and did the most reasonable thing he could think of. 

He ran.

He ran and ran, rushing through the streets as fast as his legs let him. He could hear their shouts behind him. Loki kept running, and soon the tall, grand golden buildings of the city were slowly replaced by fields and small brick houses. Knowing that they were right on his tale, the child tried to lose them by getting onto a vegetable garden and hiding behind the wooden shed, keeping his breathing quiet as he waited to hear them go away. And Loki waited. And waited. And–

Someone tackled him to the ground.

With a pained huff Loki opened his eyes, seeing the shortest guy atop him, sitting on his stomach and pinning him down by the wrists. Loki squirmed to get the teen off him, but he failed.

The lanky boy hummed. “Mhm, what is this?” Loki fixed his eyes on him, and he paled when he saw the moron flipping through the pages of his book. “ _‘How to_ _channel your_ _seiðr’? ‘Invisibility spells’?”_ He laughed and looked down at Loki, pointing at the open spellbook while shaking it mockingly. “Don't you know magic is a womanly art, kid?”

The dark-skinned youth chuckled alongside his friend. “Such an ergi.”

Loki clenched his jaw. “I'm not!”

The older boys laughed again. “Then why do you use seiðr? Only women and argr men use it!”

“That's not–!”

“HEY! What are you doing in my orchard?!”

The two boys whirled around, annoyed to have their fun being interrupted. Loki also tried to see who his savior was, but the bully atop of him blocked his view. The prince expected the teens to snap at yell that kinds of things his mother would cover his ears not to listen to, and he was pleasantly surprised when instead their eyes widened and they ran away, throwing his spellbook to the ground as they did.

Loki quickly got up and then kneeled on the ground to grab the book. The covers were now covered in dirt. Loki grimaced. He rubbed his sleeve against the covers to brush the dust off, but some of it still remained. Groaning in dislike Loki got to his feet, yelping when he was met by a pair of curious unknown eyes.

It wasn't until then that he analyzed his rescuer properly. It was a young girl around his own age, probably just about fifty years older. She had a round face and her reddish hair was up in a messy low ponytail, some ginger strands falling over her forehead wildly. Her dark blue eyes were gazing at Loki, and her smile let him see the prominent gap of a missing tooth. But what really caught the prince's attention, and probably was the fact which had made the boys run away, was the huge bow on her hand and the arrow she had just now guarded in her quiver.

Yep. _Probably_.

Suddenly she laughed. “You are not one for conversation, are ya?”

Ashamed of having been caught staring, Loki blushed and looked down at his feet. The girl laughed again, and he glanced up at her after clearing his throat to compose himself. “Thank you. I'm very grateful for your help, Lady...?”

The girl beamed and puffed up her chest proudly. Her small hand pointed a finger at her face. “You do not have to lady me, I'm just Sigyn! Sigyn Davendottir!” she exclaimed. “Future leader of the Valkiror at your service!”

Loki blinked.

The Valkiror. He remembered Thor telling him some tales about it: one of the two forces Grandfather Bor and then Father had had under his command, formed by the fiercest women in the Nine Realms. However, they were not active anymore. “But the Valkiror disappeared centuries ago,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Sigyn just shook her head, still smiling brightly. “That's why I will reunite them again, dummy!”

To say the young prince was startled would be an understatement. He had never met someone so vigorous and brave. Loki was surprised that a kid just fifty years older than himself could be so sure of herself. He was so surprised that he didn't even notice the name she had called him.

“And how will you do it?” Loki asked curiously.

Sigyn beamed again. “With your help, of course!”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“You will help me, won't ya? We are friends now,” the little redhead asked.

Once again, Loki found himself dumbfounded. He stared at her for several seconds, unable to do anything but look at her in shock. This girl who hadn't even known him a few minutes ago thought of him as a _friend_.

It wasn't until she waved a hand in front of his face that he could compose himself again. “Yes,” he replied. “Lady Sig–”

“Just Sigyn” she pointedly interrupted him.

Loki rolled his eyes, but smirked at her boldness nonetheless. “All right, Sigyn. I'll help you with your quest.”

The girl started to jump in excitement, clapping her hands happily as she bounced around. “Oh, great!” Then Sigyn grabbed her new friend's hands and pulled him into a hug.

Loki immediately stiffened. He had never truly felt comfortable with physical contact with people who were not his family, and he even struggled with them sometimes. His first instinct was to push Sigyn away and tell her to keep her distance, but instead he forced himself to relax and slowly wrap his arms around her.

What? She just felt so warm, and she had gotten rid of those guys. He owed her a hug.

Feeling him return the gesture, the redhead grinned and tightened the embarace before patting his back and finally breaking apart after some seconds passed. She, once again, beamed at him without any known reason. “And don't take what those fools said seriously, I think magic is awesome!”

Loki decided he liked her. “You do?” he asked, unable to hold back the small smile that was forming on his face.

Sigyn nodded cheerfully. “I never lie! You can ask my mamma!”

The prince shook his head. “That will not be necessary. I believe you.”

“Good,” she said. Then the voice of a woman calling her name could be heard, and Sigyn quickly turned her head to look towards a small house in front of the orchard. “Coming!” She glanced at Loki and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, my mom demands my presence. See you soon!”

And she proceeded to walk away.

A strange feeling of loss made its way into the young sorcerer's heart. He frowned at himself. They had just met, it was impossible to feel so sad about her leaving so soon after their friendship started. It wasn't logical at all. And yet, that was exactly like he felt. Loki had to return to the palace, and he didn't know when he would be able to sneak out again without anyone noticing. What if he never did? What if he could never see her again?

Before he could hold himself back, Loki called her. “Wait! Sigyn?”

At hearing her name, she immediately whirled around. “Yes?”

He cleared his throat. “As a future Valkirye,” the mischief-maker started while he clasped his hands behind his back, “You like challenges, don't you?”

The redhead stared at him thoughtfully for several seconds. Then she laughed. The prince didn't really understand why, but he didn't ask her. When her laughter died down, she grinned proudly. “Of course I do!”

Loki hummed. Not really knowing what he wanted to say, the child fixed his eyes on the planted vegetables around him. What challenge could be so great that would make both of them want to meet again?

Sigyn's brows knitted down together, but her smile didn't go away. “Why are you asking, though?”

Loki kept staring at the plants growing at the orchard for a few more moments and then he looked up at her, a smirk appearing slowly across his lips as the perfect idea ocurred to him. “Do you wish to try a new, difficult spell with me?”

Sigyn pursed her lips and tilted her head in consideration. “Will it be dangerous?”

Loki nodded. “Yes.”

“Exciting?”

He nodded again. “Certainly.”

“Will any of us get harmed?”

“No if we do it right.”

The red haired girl narrowed her eyes. “Will we be in trouble if someone catches us?”

“Indeed.”

Sigyn grinned. “I'm in. Come get me tomorrow morn.” He nodded and Sigyn turned to walk away, but for the second time she whirled around to look at him. “Wait, you never told me your name!”

The prince smirked. Imitating her previous presentation, he puffed up his chest and pointed at himself proudly. “I'm Loki. Future best sorcerer of the Nine at your service.”

They both laughed and, finally, Sigyn waved at him and got inside her house. Loki sighed in content, and as he headed towards the palace, he started thinking of an excuse to tell his parents about why he needed to go to the city tomorrow.


End file.
